


Anything You Can Do

by queenitsy



Category: High School Musical
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-07
Updated: 2007-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenitsy/pseuds/queenitsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sharpay insults Ryan, his response is a passive-aggressive snit. Unfortunately, unless he can somehow work a miracle, the whole thing is going to blow up in his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> For [challenge #2](http://community.livejournal.com/idontdance/19474.html#cutid1) at the LJ community idontdance:
> 
> Write a fic - any length, any rating - set during or just after HSM 1, **where Ryan has a crush on Zeke, and Chad gets jealous**.
> 
> Bonus points if you include **makeup, chocolate chip cookies, and something stolen**. Oh, and **Chad changing Ryan's mind about wanting Zeke**.

If there was one thing Ryan was better at than his twin—and Sharpay was pretty sure there was _only_ one thing—it was being passive aggressive. She much preferred _actual_ aggression, particularly when it was theatrical and public and embarrassing for whoever was dealing with her wrath. But not Ryan.  
   
   No, Ryan just insisted on playing Ethel Merman in his room, loudly enough for Sharpay to hear whether she wanted to or not. In fact, there was no way for her to avoid hearing it.

    He wasn’t even playing an Ethel greatest hits collection or anything. Sharpay would have been able to deal with that, even on repeat. She’d take Ethel over his usual favorite, Babs, any day (but would never tell Ryan that—_Hello, Dolly! _was his favorite movie ever), but no. He’d made his own Ethel mix.

    Track one: Ethel and Ray Middleton dueting _Anything You Can Do_.

    Track two: Ethel and Bruce Yarnell dueting _Anything You Can Do_.

    Track three: Ethel and Neilson Taylor dueting _Anything You Can Do_.

    Over. And over. _And over._

    When their mother finally politely asked him if something was wrong (and if not, would he mind terribly turning down his music?), he’d answered that _no_, everything was _fine,_ and then (out of pity for her—he was _such_ a mama’s boy, Sharpay thought, even as she applied the $75-a-bottle foundation her father had bought her when she’d pouted at him) he’d added the Bernadette Peters-Tom Wopat version, the Betty Hutton-Howard Keel version, and the Doris Day-Robert Goulet version.

    After two days, Sharpay was ready to kill him.

    After three days, Sharpay was ready to kill herself.

    On the fourth day she thought she might be getting immune to it. Then she showed up at rehearsal for _Twinkle Towne_, ready with a whole slew of new insults for Gabriella, to discover Ryan was teaching a seminar on musical history while Mrs. Darbus looked on approvingly. And his focus was, for some incredibly stupid reason, on _Annie Get Your Gun_.

    Which was, of course, the show from which the goddamn song originated.

    Troy and Gabriella were, of course, enthralled, and so they where more than happy to have Ryan teach the song to them. And since it was a set-building, costuming day, there wasn’t a lot of actual stage work to interrupt them.

    Sharpay had never heard anything so terrible.

    On day six, her phone disappeared second period. It reappeared in her locker during lunch, which was odd. But then when her father called to ask what time they’d be getting out of rehearsal, the ring tone had somehow mysteriously changed to _Anything You Can Do_.

    The seventh day, she really and truly had had it. She was broken. It was time to give in, since Ryan had clearly lost all sense of proportion in his passive-aggressive snit. A day or two would have been understandable, but this was truly _insane_.

    So she stormed into his room, pulled the plug on his speakers, and shrieked, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry I said you’re not as talented as I am!”

    “Huh?” Ryan asked. He reached up to pull out a pair of earplugs.

    She glared at him. Earplugs! She had been listening to this insanity for a week, and he had been using _earplugs_!

    Actually, she was a little proud of him.

    “I’m not saying it again.” She crossed her arms.

    “I have absolutely _no_ idea what you’re talking about,” he answered, then added in a syrupy voice, “_Sis_.”

    “Oh, shut up,” she snapped. “Look, I was ranting about how inferior Troy and Gabriella are to _us_—“

    “And then you accidentally listed me with those amateurs?” he snapped. “Very hurtful, Shar. And untrue, by the way.”

    She scoffed. He was so touchy. And she privately believed she’d been right, though it just wasn’t nice to say so. And despite rumors, she was _very_ nice. She really didn’t understand why people thought otherwise.

    “Look, I’m sorry I hurt your precious _feelings_, Ryan.”

    “No, you’re not.” He rolled his eyes. “I know you, Shar. You think you’re better than me, and you think I’ll just forgive you. Well you’re not, and I won’t.”

    Sharpay glared. She hated it when Ryan showed spine. It was a rare occurrence, but when he’d set his mind on standing up to her, he was extremely stubborn. It would take her weeks to talk him down.

    “Please,” she snapped. “You’re very good, and whatever, I suppose it’s all a matter of taste, anyway. Can I help it if most people—“ _reasonable people,_ she thought, _people who have ears_, “—prefer me?”

    “They do not,” he said flatly. “Name one.”

    She opened her mouth to do so, then snapped it shut.

    She couldn’t say Dad; that was mean, although true, she was pretty sure. She couldn’t say Mom, either, because not only was that mean, she was pretty sure Ryan was secretly their mom’s favorite. And at school…well…okay, no one really liked either of them, outside the drama department. She considered Mrs. Darbus, but then again, Mrs. Darbus did go on about Ryan a lot more than her, since he was such a kiss-ass. And their friends…well, they didn’t really _have_ friends, just lackeys, and since they were all more scared of her than of him, of course they’d say they liked her more (if she told them to), but the truth was…

    Well, it wasn’t looking good.

    And then it dawned on her.

    Not Troy or Gabriella; they were both ridiculous, anyway, and not very bright, and they _definitely_ knew nothing about theater or music. Of _course_ they’d like Ryan better. But Troy had basketball groupies. And most of them were tone-deaf idiots who probably belonged in a zoo more so than in a theater, but there was that one. With the cookies.

    Zeke, that was his name.

    Zeke adored her.

    So she said, triumphantly, “Zeke.”

    To which Ryan, ass that he was, answered, “Who?”

    “Zeke. _Baylor_,” she said, proud of herself for remembering his last name. At least she thought it was. Whatever; it wasn’t like Ryan knew, either.

    He stared.

    “The basketball player!”

    “Which…?”

    “Who bakes,” she said.

    “Nope,” Ryan answered.

    “What do you _mean_, nope?” She stomped her foot. “He does, too!”

    “No, I don’t think so,” Ryan said, pausing as if to consider. Then he nodded and said, “Shar, Zeke is gay.”

    “He is not!” She threw herself down on his bed dramatically, almost forgetting that they were fighting. If she hadn’t had the stupid song stuck in her head, she might have forgotten entirely.

    “Yeah, he totally is. Either that, or I’m just a way better flirt than you are.”

    “You definitely are not,” Sharpay said. And she really, really meant it.

    “No?” he asked. “Because he hasn’t brought you cookies in weeks.”

    “So?”

    “So, me, on the other hand…” He raised an eyebrow. “I turned him to the dark side, Shar. Homosexual agenda at work. I _recruited_ him.”

    “You did not!”

    But Ryan was smirking. Sharpay gasped.

    “Like the song says, anything you can do… Or,” he said, entirely too smug for her liking, “any_one_.”

    She stood up and stomped out.

    All was not right with the universe.

\--

    _Great job, self, way to go. This is why your schemes always collapse, _Ryan berated himself, checking himself in the mirror as he tilted his hat to the right. He frowned and decided it looked weird, tried the left, then changed his mind and went right again. Much better.

    Why couldn’t _all_ of life be as easy as properly angling a hat?

    He checked to make sure there was nothing in his teeth, grabbed a piece of gum for his breath, and started down the hall towards Zeke’s locker.

    Zeke was tall, and attractive, and he could bake. Ryan would have given anything to have magic powers that could turn cute boys gay, just because he wanted them (and maybe to spite his sister). But despite what he’d said and his smirk and everything—proof, he believed, that he was a better actor than Sharpay was, period—he had never actually managed to even _speak_ to the guy.

    He wanted to. Desperately. And it wasn’t like Ryan was easily intimidated. It was just…he’d see Zeke, his knees would turn to jelly, and then Zeke would hurry off after his twin sister, and what was he supposed to do? It was pathetic.

    So he forced himself to stride up to Zeke’s locker and say, “Hey.”

    Zeke beamed at him. “Hey, Ryan! What’s up?”

    Ryan shrugged. “Just hanging out, waiting for rehearsal to start.”

    “Yeah, I’ve got practice,” Zeke said.

    Ryan tried not to picture Zeke in basketball shorts. Which was hard, because he’d started watching him through the gym’s windows, and basketball shorts did amazing things for Zeke’s ass.

    “So,” Ryan finally managed to say.

    “Hey, did Sharpay get the cookies I left in her locker?” Zeke interrupted, looking hopeful and eager.

    Ryan sighed. “Yes,” he lied.

    He checked Sharpay’s locker every day and stole her cookies. 

    “Great!” Zeke grinned at him. “You know, I was thinking—you probably know what kinds of things she likes, right? I could switch it up. Chocolate chip is great and all, but it’s very standard. It doesn’t _say_ anything. But if you could let me know what else she likes…I was thinking, like, sugar cookies, because she’s so sweet, right? But that’s cliché. I can make a killer snickerdoodle, but I’m not sure what that would say to her, and—“

    And then, like some sort of gift from god for having been so patient and endured his sister for so many years, Chad Danforth appeared behind Zeke and said, “Dude, you’re going to be late to practice. Come on, man, or you’ll be running laps for an hour.”

    “You wouldn’t do that to me,” Zeke said.

    “Would so.”

    Zeke explained to Ryan, “Chad’s kind of stepped in as captain since you’ve kidnapped Troy and keep him tied up in the theater all the time.”

    “I see,” Ryan said.

    “Right, and as acting captain, seriously, don’t be late.”

    Zeke sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Ryan, think about what I asked, okay? If you can come up with something she’ll like, I’m _sure_ I can figure out a metaphor.”

    Ryan nodded wordlessly, and Zeke jogged off down the hallway.

    Chad looked Ryan up and down, then said, “See you, Evans.” Then he jogged after Zeke.

    Ryan sighed and debated banging his head against the wall, but didn’t. He didn’t want to have to readjust his hat.

\--

    Ryan didn’t usually bother to attend study hall; he generally skipped it and hung out in the theater instead. But Zeke was in his study hall, and Ryan had to make sure he had either Zeke or Sharpay in sight at all time, to ensure they weren’t talking to one another. Otherwise it would be only a matter of minutes until she called his bluff.

    So he was sitting in studyhall, staring at the back of Zeke’s head, and occasionally sighing deeply. And humming _Anything You Can Do_, because it was stuck in his head. His karmic punishment for trying to beat Sharpay at her own game, he supposed. It had been sixteen years of bickering, and he hadn’t won a fight since they were toddlers. He really should have known better. It just wasn’t _fair_.

    He was halfway through a mental, melodramatic tirade when Chad Danforth leaned across the aisle between their desks and said quietly, “Dude, you got a thing for Zeke or what? Because you’re starting to get creepy.”

    “Huh?” Ryan asked.

    Chad laughed. “You’ve been staring at him for the whole period.”

    “Oh. Just staring into space…”

    “Which happens to be occupied by my teammate’s head?” Chad grinned at him. “It’s cool, dude. Zeke’s kind of cute, I guess. Though…”

    “Hm?” Ryan prompted, trying not to sound too eager.

    “Well, you know, he picks his nose in the locker room all the time. It’s seriously gross,” Chad said. “I just hope he washes his hands before he cooks…It’s so wrong, dude, we all know, and it’s disgusting, but no one knows how to tell him to knock it off.”

    “Shouldn’t that be your job as acting captain?”

    “Well, if you’d give me our _real_ captain back…”

    “Take him,” Ryan said. “I’m not holding him hostage; I can’t get him to _leave_. He stole _my_ part!”

    “Criminal, very criminal of him,” Chad laughed. “And…I suppose you wouldn’t have minded getting to kiss Gabriella in the finale, huh?”

    “Well, better her than my sister,” Ryan said.

    Chad chuckled. “I mean, she’s hot, is all.”

    “Yeah, I guess, if you like her type.”

    “What type is that?”

    “Female.” Ryan shook his head. “I don’t.”

    “No duh. Really? I hadn’t caught on, with you mentally undressing Zeke all the time.”

    “I do not…!” Ryan sputtered. Which was a lie. He had very detailed mental pictures of what Zeke would look like without clothes on.

    “Yeah, you really do. I mean, it’s cool. He just doesn’t swing your way. Trust me.”

    “How would you know?”

    “I’ve got a better gaydar than you do, apparently.” Ryan scowled, and Chad continued. “What do you see in him, anyway? _He’s_ your type?”

    “I don’t know,” Ryan admitted. “He’s cute, and nice, and…he looks really hot in basketball shorts.”

    “Yeah, well me _too,_ but you don’t have a crush on _me_,” Chad muttered.

    Ryan rolled his eyes, then sighed dramatically…Then paused. Actually, maybe…hm.

    “Hey, could you help me out?” he asked.

    “Maybe.” Chad raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

    “It’s a long, stupid story, but basically, in order to win the fight Sharpay and I are having, I need there to be convincing rumors that Zeke and I had a passionate fling.”

    “You…I don’t even wanna know,” Chad said.

    “Look, if you could just…I don’t know…mention it to a couple of people?”

    “Mention? You and Zeke?” Chad shook his head. “Ryan, Zeke is _straight_. He’s in love with your sister.”

    “Yes, I’m aware,” Ryan snapped. “That’s not what this is about. Beating Sharpay is what this is about!”

    “Huh.” Chad considered. “Well, okay. It’s weird, man, but I am always in favor of beating Sharpay.”

    “Thanks,” Ryan said gratefully.

    “Sure. But you owe me,” Chad answered.

    “Anything,” Ryan promised.

\--

    Chad was as good as his word. People were whispering when Ryan walked by in the hallway by the end of the day. The day after, Zeke would turn and go the other way whenever he saw Ryan coming. And Ryan left the cookies stay in Sharpay’s locker for a change. Let her think Zeke was trying to cover up for being outed, desperately trying to prove his heterosexuality. That would convince her like nothing else.

    He knew he’d won when he heard her talking on the phone in her room. Not that he put his ear to the wall to listen or anything.

    “…Look, I’m not saying it’s a problem if you and my brother…I just…Zeke! I don’t care if you’re gay, I…Well, if you wouldn’t deny it, I wouldn’t be pressing so hard!”

    He smirked.

    Zeke could deny all he wanted now; Sharpay had decided the rumors were true, so it would do him no good. She was convinced he was gay, and she was convinced he’d hooked up with Ryan, which meant that even if he talked her into believing he was bi, and still interested in her, he’d be turned down flatly. Not only would it be creepy at that point, but Sharpay would _never_ date anyone’s castoff.

    He made it a point to whistle _Anything You Can Do _at the dinner table that night until Sharpay glared at him, then declared, _“Mother_, please tell Ryan he can stop acting _childish_. I’m sorry.”

    “And?” Ryan asked hopefully.

    “You’re right. He even left me cookies today, he’s so embarrassed. Did you traumatize him, Ryan?” she demanded.

    “Only a little,” Ryan answered, which was probably true.

    “The talented ones are always gay,” she sighed.

    And good lord, winning felt _good_.

\--

    Chad was waiting for Ryan at his locker in the morning. “Well?” he asked. “Did it work?”

    Ryan smirked. “Like a charm. You’re awesome.”

    “I know…Of course, Zeke is horrified, and probably will never speak to you again now. And it’s not a homophobia thing,” Chad said quickly. “He’s just upset that no one but me will believe that he’s not gay.”

    “You did start the rumors,” Ryan said.

    “Also, I have a great gaydar,” Chad said. “So I hope you weren’t hoping this whole thing would end up with you and him together. That ship has sailed, and sunk, and there were no survivors.”

    “Alas,” Ryan sighed. “But I guess I’ll get over him.”

    “I hope so. So. You owe me.”

    “I do,” Ryan acknowledged. “So what’ll it be?” He fully expected something mildly extravagant or expensive or involving his family’s connections. Courtside basketball seats or something. Or maybe something craftier, like a plan to get Troy out of the theater and back into the gym where he belonged.

    So he was caught completely off-guard when Chad said, “You could start by taking me out on a date. You can pick me up at seven tonight…I assume you’ll want to plan it yourself, but I’ve got some ideas if you don’t.”

    Ryan gaped.

    Chad grinned.

    Ryan gaped some more.

    Chad waited.

    Finally, Ryan managed to pull his jaw off the floor where he was pretty sure it had landed when it dropped, and said, “What?”

    “A date,” Chad repeated. “You know, like dinner, or mini-golf, or something?”

    “Yeah, but..._what_? You want to go on a date with _me_?”

    “Clearly.”

    “But…but,” he stammered, “why? When did this happen? How did…_What_?”

    Chad smirked as he said, “Dude, Ryan, your gaydar really, _really_ sucks. See you tonight!”

    Then Chad sauntered off, leaving Ryan staring after him thoughtfully.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points: Makeup (Sharpay's overpriced foundation), chocolate chip cookies (Zeke baked 'em, of course), something stolen (Sharpay's phone, as well as the cookies Zeke baked for her).
> 
> Also: Chad changing Ryan's mind about wanting Zeke (he picks his nose! Gross!).


End file.
